


Anchored

by patroclilles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, M/M, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patroclilles/pseuds/patroclilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is a gift to <a href="http://carkegriffin.tumblr.com//">carkegriffin</a> on tumblr, who was wondering what happens in 2x02 between the scene where Mickey gets out of juvie and the scene in the dugout. Here's my headcanon. I'm setting it up so that both scenes take place the same day. Added a fluffy scene at the end too, 'cause who can ever get enough of fluff?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchored

**Author's Note:**

> So, I go on tumblr and delgay ruins me with [this post](http://delgay.tumblr.com/post/98670658485/ians-relationship-w-monica-is-so-complicated-and/) about Ian and Monica's relationship and I'm jjust like ??? IAn Gallagh err ?? deserves so much /?? I'm so sad, I can't stop listening to William Fitzsimmons ("I Don't Feel It Anymore," "So This is Goodbye") and Yuna ("Someone Out of Town") and I just can't fathom how I could love Ian Gallagher this much.
> 
> Now I'm writing because I refuse to feel like frickin shit anymore. I'm writing a happy, fluffy fic because I need to remember that Ian Gallagher's life is not always shit. That even when it is, he always has something good to hold onto. I'm writing because I need Ian Gallagher to be ok.
> 
> Please enjoy, please keep loving Ian Gallagher, and don't forget to #prayforseason5.

Summertime in Chicago is a pain in the ass. Now imagine summertime in Chicago being Ian Gallagher.

The heat is just as bad as the cold is in winter. His family is still dirt poor and because of that he's still working at the Kash and Grab trying to make end's meet. Linda's pregnant but her marriage is deteriorating, no doubt due to the affair between her husband and Ian the year before. But, mind over matter; the kid needs to work.

Beyond that, he's studying hard. He wants to make it to West Point, a military academy located in Upstate New York. He wants to be an officer. Even with the help of his genius brother, Lip, it's a lot of work that keeps him challenged even during the summer vacation.

Though he's determined, it's still hard. Though he wants to achieve his dream, his studies swamp him. Though he wants his family to get by, his work at the Kash and Grab is awkward and uncomfortable. And the heat of summer just makes everything else weigh down all the more.

But today is the day Mickey Milkovich is getting out of juvie. Mickey Milkovich, the angry boy who let's Ian in every time. Mickey Milkovich, the one who went to jail because of Ian in the first place. Jesus, Ian would be lying if he said he hasn't been dreaming of this day since Mickey went in. The summer heat is at its peak and with all that Ian is dealing with; fuck if he doesn't need an anchor to get through it.

So, despite Mandy's protests, Ian Gallagher managed to convince her to let him accompany her to the detention center. Now, standing in front of the rundown building, he smiles contently and feels the butterflies begin to build because at any moment a disgruntled, unkempt, but completely endearing Mickey Milkovich is going to appear.

"Here he comes. You know, you didn't have to come with me," Mandy says as she spots her brother exiting the building.

"Bad neighborhood," Ian is quick to reply.

"We live in a bad neighborhood."

"Yeah, but we're related to the bad people in our bad neighborhood," Ian says, nervous because now Mickey Milkovich was walking towards them.

"The hell's he doing here?" is the first thing to leave his mouth. Ian smiles because he feels some sort of childish pride that the first thing Mickey talks about is him.

"Hey, Mick." Ian tries his damnedest to play it casual but, fuck, it's showing all over his face.

"He thought I needed protection," Mandy says.

"Oh yeah?" Mickey shoots him a grin. "Trust me, you may think you know my sister but you don't know my sister 'til you've fought my sister." He pulls Mandy into a hug before finishing, "she's protecting your ass."

"You smell like barbecue sauce," Mandy mutters as they pull away from their embrace.

"Smell like what?" Mickey rhetorically asks as he lunges at Mandy and twists her nipples.

"Ow! What did Dad tell you?" Mandy grabs a handful of her brother's hair and pulls hard.

"Fuck the police?!" Mickey grunts as he tries to shake her off of him.

"No titty twisties now that I'm a C cup!"

"C cup? Bitch, you wish," Mickey says as he turns around and spots some other delinquents exiting the building he just came from.

"Ay! Fuck you, fuck you, and _especially_ fuck you." Ian takes that as his cue to get the three of them out of there.

"Alright, alright. Jesus, let's get out of here before they throw you back in." Ian reaches for Mandy and her brother as they make they're way back, but Mickey is quick to shoo Ian's hand off his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

"We rolled some joints in celebration," Mandy says excitedly as they near their neighborhood. They find a quiet spot underneath the L to spark.

"Jesus, I just got out of jail; I'm not graduating fuckin' high school. The fuck's up with you two?" Mickey grumps as he sits down beside Mandy and Ian on the ground so that they form a triangle.

"What? We can't be excited the neighborhood thug is back in town?" Ian says.

Mandy's too busy lighting the joint and taking a monster hit to notice Mickey quirking his eyebrows at Ian. His small flirtatious smile says, _you that excited to have me back, Firecrotch?_

Ian's blush and smirk says clearly, _you bet I am, Mick._

"If you're gonna bitch about it, Ian and I are happy to kill it," Mandy chimes in, waving the lit joint teasingly in front of Mickey's face.

Mickey flips her off and takes the joint from her grasp. He takes two hits before reaching his arm out to Ian, who lifts his arm to take the pass before Mickey yanks his arm back altogether. Ian looks up at Mickey's face in confusion.

Mickey's smirk is torturously teasing. Jesus, Ian wishes with everything he has that they were alone. Not that having Mandy there is a buzzkill, it's just that if she wasn't Ian would have Mickey laying on the ground with his pants around his ankles by now.

At this point, Mickey's smile is growing into a wide, mischievous grin. He looks between his sister and Ian. "What? You think I'm passing this back? I've been sober for months; this baby's all mine," he finishes with a cackle, stands up, and books it, joint in hand.

Ian chases after him like a puppy after the mailman and Mandy barely has time to process what just went down.

"Oh, fucking asshole!" she grunts as she stands and starts chasing after the two fools.

 

* * *

 

Mickey runs all the way back to the Milkovich house. He figures it's the best way to get Ian to stay over without actually having to ask it from him. The kid would never let Mickey live it down if he was all, "listen, I like sucking your dick and all, but I also like hanging out with you and my sister, so come over, maybe?" Hell no. Not happening. So he makes Ian chase him instead.

Mandy is still a few block behind when Ian reaches Mickey in front of the house. He leans over and braces himself on his knees and looks up at the smirking brunette.

"Jesus, Mickey, if you wanted me over so bad, you could've just asked." Fuck this kid and his fucking people reading skills, the little fucker.

Mickey scoffs and Mandy finally reaches up to them. "You better not have killed that joint, douchebag," she says.

Mickey raises his arms in mock surrender with an innocent face. But his empty hands proves him guilty because there is no joint in sight.

Mandy scowls at him and her brother lets out a chuckle.

"Yeah, keep laughing, asshole. You're not getting any of the other three we rolled." She pushes past him and enters the house.

"Oh, come on. Mandy!" Mickey pleads as he follows her in, Ian chuckling behind him like a boy who can't shake a crush.

 

* * *

 

They probably downed three bags of pizza rolls since they arrived at the Milkovich house three hours earlier. In fact, Mickey probably downed most of the rolls himself while they played Zelda for third straight hour. No one is home besides them, thank fuck.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Mickey mumbles with his mouth full as Mandy swats his hands away from the plate.

"You're killing the pizza rolls, Mickey! You wanna leave some for the rest of us?"

"Can't help if they underfed me in the clink," Mickey says simply before favoring his hand. "Fuck." Mandy hits hard.

It's a wonder that Mandy hasn't caught Ian's total smitten kitten state. He's been grinning since the chase, nudging Mickey with his knee from where he sat in between them on the couch, and shooting her brother shy looks the whole day. Mickey's well aware of it, though, and doesn't particularly mind the attention.

"Gotta take a piss," Mickey says simply and Mandy grunts in response.

Mickey stands up, not before shooting Ian a look that clearly asks the redhead to follow him. Ian needn't be told twice.

He gives it a few minutes before dismissing himself and Mandy is too caught up in the game to give him too much mind. It takes everything for Ian not to skip his way to Mickey's room, where the only working bathroom is.

He opens the door to find Mickey standing in front of his bed, taking in his old room even though it's remained exactly the same since he left. He doesn't make a motion to acknowledge Ian's presence.

Ian leans on Mickey's closed door before coughing. Mickey looks over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised.

"So," Ian starts. He actually has no idea what to say; the way Mickey is looking at him makes him lose his train of thought.

"So," Mickey repeats for him before turning around and sitting on his bed, "I know you probably wanna keep hanging around Mandy for the rest of the night, but if you ask me I've kinda been missin' the dugout." He eyes Ian up and down and it's enough to make the redhead feel a flush creeping up from his chest.

But now it was Ian's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Missing your legendary days in Little League, huh, Mick?"

"Fuck off."

"Meet you there in twenty?"

Mickey smirks, and that's all the response Ian needs. He smiles back before returning to Mandy.

"I gotta head back home," Ian explains quickly as he grabs one last pizza roll and heads out the door.

Mandy grunts once again and lets him go. She hardly notices Mickey leave fifteen minutes later.

 

* * *

 

"Hot as balls out tonight," Mickey says idly as he walks through the baseball field with Ian by his side.

He makes a guttural noise before spitting on the AstroTurf. It's funny, because spitting is just another trait that defines Mickey, along with so many other things that would normally seem unsightly to anyone who didn't know Mickey. But Ian knows Mickey, and that's why it's funny. Mickey always tries to seem as unpleasant as possible; spitting, with his way with obscenities, with the way he always looks real dirty but is really the kind to shower daily if he could. Ian knows his way through and around all of that. He knows his way around Mickey so well and in ways not a lot of other people get to, because they'd probably get clocked right in the face if they tried. Ian isn't like anyone else.

He doesn't bother to respond to Mickey's comment. Instead, Ian gets straight to the stuff he knows Mickey cares about but is too damn stubborn to bring up himself.

"So I'm taking geometry, algebra II, trigonometry and chemistry."

"During the summer?" Mickey sounds genuinely interested. Let no one tell Ian Gallagher that Mickey Milkovich does not care.

"Wanna try to get into West Point," Ian says simply.

Mickey scoffs, "if you want the army to give you a fuckin' gun, all you gotta do is enlist. Recruitment station is like," he gestures a hand over his shoulder, "two blocks that way."

They approach the dugout and make their way in. "But I want to be an officer."

"Wanna be an officer, huh?" Mickey asks as he rumages through his bag for one of the cans of beer he managed to swipe from the refrigerator earlier before leaving his house.

He was happy when he found more than one beer can, because the Milkoviches can drink everything as soon as it's in sight. Usually, the only time you can get a drink in that house is when someone has bought it no more than five minutes before.

He swiped four cans happily and threw them in his bag before he headed to meet with Ian. Really, Mickey was just using the beer as an excuse. More beer means more time in the dugout. More beer means more time with Ian.

Mickey walks deeper into the dugout before asking, "don't officers get shot first?"

Ian thinks it's real cute that the first thing Mickey thinks to ask is whether or not Ian is signing up to get shot.

"Here, shotgun," Mickey says. Mickey has one beer in hand and a swiss army knife in the other. He settles the beer on its side on the ledge next to him and pierces a hole in it. Ian doesn't take long to catch up with the current change of pace.

Mickey lifts the bottom of the can to his lips and chugs down as much as he can. He beckons Ian with his other hand and Ian gets closer. So much closer.

Ian reaches for the can as Mickey passes it to him, both moving quick so as to avoid beer from spilling. Ian's hand linger on top of Mickey's on the can, and it's enough to remind Mickey of what he really wants.

The brunette shakes his hand dry as he eyes up the redhead. He laughs when Ian gasps after he takes one last gulp. Yeah, Mickey's gotta go for it.

"So, you make a lot of friends on the inside?" Ian says as he bends to dry his hands of beer on his pants. He's hardly a foot away from Mickey, who is, at this point, burping and looking just about as mischievous as he did the moment he basically admitted boning Ian in front of Kash all those months before.

Yeah, Ian knows exactly what kind of look Mickey is giving him.

"You wanna chit-chat more or you wanna get on me?"

Booyah. Read like an open book.

Still, Ian can't say he's not surprised by Mickey's forwardness. Mickey is looking at him with such relentlessness, it's driving Ian's insides wild.

All he can think to do next is drop his pants.

 

* * *

 

"Fuck, Mick," Ian grunts as he snaps his hips against Mickey's. The brunette responds with a low moan as he pushes back on every thrust. Ian wants to voice a lot more, probably moan so loud it can be heard across the field. But sex with Mickey is nothing like that.

Sex with Mickey is delicate. It's the only time Ian doesn't push Mickey, because he'd hate if he made Mickey feel uncomfortable like that; he'd hate if he displeased Mickey. He lets Mickey tell him what he wants, with words and with motions, and Ian gives it however it is asked of him.

While also delicate, sex with Mickey is almost always rough. Mickey would always face away from Ian so as to avoid any temptation to kiss the redhead's begging lips, but fuck if he doesn't love every harsh bite on the shoulder and the bruising grip on his hips. God, he wishes he could moan with abandon as Ian picks up the pace.

Mickey doesn't stop Ian as the redhead reaches around him and starts stroking his dick frantically. Ian knows the brunette is close by the way he's clenching around his cock. Fuck, how could both boys forget how _good_ it feels to fuck each other? Yeah, they won't be forgetting anytime soon, if the way the dugout fence is shaking from Mickey's grip is any indication.

The sprinklers on the field go off as soon as they come, but Ian and Mickey are too busy panting to hear them. They try their best to compose themselves as Ian backs away slowly and zips up.

Mickey stays turned from Ian as he zips himself up. He lets out one sigh before he thrusts his pelvis forward and yells in a husky voice, "I've always wanted to do that here!"

He sniffs and turns around to lean against the ledge.

Ian chuckles and shies away. Mickey continues, "get back at that Little League commissioner who kicked me off my baseball team for pissin' on first base."

"I remember," Ian replies as he steps on a ledge and reaches for a low hanging beam on the dugout ceiling.

"You heard about that?"

"I was playing second," Ian smiles contently at Mickey as he starts doing chin-ups.

"Fucking tough guy, uh?" Mickey asks as he watches Ian work out. He sips his beer and goes to do chin-ups when Ian is done, as if to level the playing field.

"Not much to do in the joint but work out," Mickey says smugly after he finishes an impressive set of chin-ups. He searches Ian's face trying to find some sort of tell that Ian had enjoyed the show.

"You could read."

"Fuck off. Fucked for life anyway," Mickey said as he lights a cigarette.

Ian wants to rebut Mickey's off the cuff remark but he decides against it. He changes the subject instead. "Wanna sneak into a Sox game tomorrow?"

Mickey breathes out cigarette smoke. "Nah, man. I gotta get me a job. If I don't get one in two weeks my probation skank's gonna get it for me and I'm gonna end up losing a fuckin' limb at the meatpacking plant."

"Maybe she'll find you something better."

"She ain't gonna find fuck all."

After a little back and forth about Mickey's options, Ian stops after he mentions possibly signing up for community college.

"Why the fuck are we talking about community college right now?" Mickey sounds genuinely annoyed. Ian takes the hint and backs off, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the ledge.

Mickey continues, "Jesus Christ, you wanna spread a blanket out and look for shooting starts next?"

Ian genuinely laughs at that, because wouldn't that be something? Looking at the stars with Mickey Milkovich.

They both burp in unison before Ian tries again, "I could talk to Linda."

"I'm sorry, you want me to work at the place I got shot?" Mickey asks as he sizes Ian up and down.

"Redemption tale," Ian replies simply and stares straight into Mickey's eyes.

"What'd I be doing?"

"Helping."

"I ain't cleaning up after people."

Ian chuckles. "It's a pretty clean store, Mickey," he says casually before turning slightly to look at Mickey again. The lights from the field shine amazingly in Ian's eyes and the dugout fence casts a shadow across his face. Mickey would be lying if he said he didn't find Ian attractive as all fuck in that moment.

So he plays along, because he wouldn't really mind being around that face all day long. "What about security? You know, scaring people like me who come into the store trying to steal shit?"

Ian smiles. "Stealing's been down since your shooting."

Yeah, Mickey's not getting anywhere with this. "Eh, do whatever you want, man, you brought it up." He sips his beer.

Ian shrugs and lets it go for now. "Alright," he says simply.

Fuck, Mickey needs to bounce back from this quick. He says the first thing that comes to mind.

"You ready to go again or you, uh, you need some time, Firecrotch?"

Ian grins because, really? Like he wasn't a sixteen year old teenager who hasn't had a good fuck since Mickey left. Mickey can't help but grin back before Ian shoves him toward the fence. They both chuckle as Ian aligns himself to start Fuck Session Number Two.

 

* * *

 

It was like water had some sort of otherworldly connection to when these boys were going to climax. Because, like when the sprinklers had gone off just when both Ian and Mickey had earlier, the rain came pouring down when they came for a second time.

"Oh, shit," Mickey grunts as the last of his orgasm hits him. He's kind of overwhelmed that he came right when the water started to hit his face.

"Fuck," both boys jerk back in surprise at the downpour. Afterglow effectively ruined. Thanks, Mother Nature.

They zip themselves up and say nothing as they stare out into the field.

"I guess we should wait it out?" Ian says finally.

Mickey looks at him incredulously; eyebrows raised, a la Mickey. Ain't no way in hell Mickey Milkovich is staying trapped in the dugout with Ian Gallagher for an indefinite amount of time. So he does what he does best. He runs.

It takes Ian a beat before he's running after the brunette onto the field and into the rain. Soon they're both soaked and laughing like children at the playground. Ian finally manages to tackle Mickey to the ground, getting mud all over their jeans and shirts. Mickey rolls over so that Ian is now settled on top of him. As much as he wants it to drag on, he instinctually spits out, "stop acting so fuckin' gay and get off me."

Ian laughs at him and rolls off so that he's laying by Mickey's side. They both close their eyes as the water pours on them and they catch their breath.

Ian's head is next to Mickey's shoulder, and he doesn't move when he feels the brunette's hand settle softly on his arm. Ian smiles but says nothing. Mickey sighs in relief at Ian's silence and smiles too.

Ian Gallagher lies on the field with Mickey beside him thinking he'll be alright this summer. He'll have Mickey. If Mickey ends up working at the Kash and Grab, it'll be just that much more bearable. If Ian has to study for hours a day, he would be fine if he got to see Mickey at the end of it. This summer won't be as bad as he thought it would be.

Ian has found his anchor, and if being anchored feels as great as this, he never wants to be let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so as I started writing the second half to this, happier music started to play. I'm telling you, Spotify _gets_ me. Anyway, I'm here grinning listening to the melancholic John Mayer play "Stop This Train" live and Regina Spektor's "Us," so I'm feeling alright. Yeah, I'm still feeling a little bittersweet because Shameless does that to me, but I'm alright.
> 
> Ian Gallagher is gonna be ok, folks. 
> 
> #im very dramatic and lame but#i cant help that i love ian gallagher this much#i know this fandom gets me
> 
> -[r](http://halseystr.tumblr.com)
> 
> P. S. I'm also listening to "Drops of Jupiter" by Train AND I'M NOT SORRY.


End file.
